


Devil's No. 1

by MaladaptiveNinjaReturns



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dark, Deal with a Devil, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Insomnia, Shyness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2019-12-06 20:41:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18225161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaladaptiveNinjaReturns/pseuds/MaladaptiveNinjaReturns
Summary: When Peter goes missing, you take matters in your own hands to do everything to bring him back safe. Sometimes, that includes making a deal with the Devil.(A very old story that I wrote two or three years ago on a prompt by a tumblr user.)





	1. The Calling

Gary was an insolent fool. He was consumed so much by rage and narcissism that if someone scalped his forehead right now they would have seen his brain melting as it made wailing noises.

As soon as he entered his apartment— that could house one entire frat house and still have space left— he went straight for his study, stood in front of the largest bookcase and pushed a false book to open a doorway to a room hidden behind it. Gary went inside and took out the largest book with a pentagram and Celtic symbols carved on the leather cover.

Slamming the book open on an ivory table right in the centre of the room, Gary opened a page he seemed quite familiar with. With a dry smirk on his recently scrubbed lips, he lit the candles and drew blood from his hands into a copper bowl as directed by the book and began an ominous chant.

By his third repetition, Gary felt the ground shake and the lights flicker but he wasn’t surprised till every mirror in his house shattered and every piece of glass cracked into tiniest bits after generating a piercing sound.

By his seventh chant, the entire house went dark.

Neither did the light enter nor leave his apartment for the next few moments.

Gary had done this before, but never did it cease to send his heartbeat racing as fear chilled his blood for summoning darkness right in front of him.

His bones felt the dead cold and he knew his summoning had been a success. He could feel life pass through his lungs to the entity present somewhere right in front of him, probably staring right into his face.

“I have a guinea pig for you. I know you’re into the whole soul business. Here—”, Gary searched his Armani coat pocket for the photograph he had just stolen from his attorney.

“She is the one. I want her dead within fifteen days. I don’t care what you have to do. Show it as an accident. Strike a deal for her soul and kill her and frame it on someone, I don’t care. I want this bitch frying in hell.”

Gary’s rage had brought up the temperature a little as he saw himself commanding the demon in the dark. You’ve got balls, Gary Dick. You got this, he said to himself.

For a flash of a second, he caught a pair of burning red eyes—the shade of the hot volcanic eruption that destroys everything in his sight— right in his face.

Before he could address his fear, the eyes vanished, the lights came back, all the glasses and mirrors were just like when Gary had entered the house.

He didn’t move even a fraction of an inch till he felt his wet pants against his legs.

“Holy mother of—”

He stumbled as he turned towards the book and looked at the page which was supposed to summon a demon. He had summoned quite many before to do his dirty work for him to help him gain wealth and power. But he had never been stared at with such piercing eyes.

His doubt turned into surety and horror as he looked at two similar pages of summoning spells with one tiny difference.

His already pale face turned white as he looked at the title written in blood.

This moron had just summoned the Devil himself to do his bidding and he had been left alive to tell the tale.

 


	2. The Warrior

“Who else knows?”

The first words out of the supreme soldier touched the nerves of the nurses the wrong way as they made way for him. None of them was ready to make eye contact with him, fearing the worst reactions from the powerful being on finding out about his brother.

“No one, your grace,” responded the nurse who had a soft feminine voice.

“Keep the profile greetings for your father,” he announced to the room before walking out of the elevator into a dark corridor with seemingly bright wall lamps lit at considerable intervals till no visible end.

The nurses wore robes of pink, the sturdy inflammable fabric carefully wrapped around their bodies at the waist to allow ease of movement of their limbs that they were not really used to. The tallest of the healers was still trying to adjust to the constant brush of fabric around his shoulders while the thinner, muscular one walked funny, still trying to adjust to the organs hanging in between his legs.

“Who found him?”

“I did, yo-uhh…I did, sir. My name is Kazan,” the one with the feminine voice spoke up, stepping forward from his group towards the multi-dimensional being perfectly fitting inside the skin reflecting the light like a white star slipping off the body of a black ocean in the night. The short dark curls on his head let the light dance over and around them as he continued to move ahead without once breaking his step. “I found him by the Duran Lake half dead, lying on the shore. Someone had dragged him out of the water and left him there.”

The unsettling silence of his combat boots over the black tiles for the entire length of the corridor made the healers worry about his reactions with every passing second. And when they finally reached the door at the very end, they were still not ready for it.

Kazan stepped forward to take out a brass key and insert it into the keyhole before turning the metal and twisting the knob to open the door, bowing his head and stepping back to let the commander in.

The first thing that the brown eyes noticed was the scrawny, aged healer wearing a similar pink fabric freshly painted crimson while the grey eyes of that sorry creature were filled with a shadow of horror.

“T'Challa,” the skinny old mender called out to the divine presence standing in front of him raising his hand towards the soldier as if in silent final prayer, “I did the best I could.”

Without blinking, T'Challa put his hands on the healer’s shoulders, pressing them with trusting assurance. “I believe you, Izuna. Clean yourself up and let the others take your duties till you have regained your strength, my old friend.”

With a doubtful nod and trembling fingers still covered in blood, Izuna let the taller of the beings help him walk out of the door.

T'Challa felt his jaw tighten before he took in a lungful of the blood-stenched air and walked around the partition with Kazan following him close behind.

The white sheet covering the mattress carried the imprint of every open wound of the body lying over it, the allegedly purest shade coloured a deadly hue of red burning under the lone but brilliantly bright white chandelier hanging above them.

The limbs were broken, bones showing in two places. The muscles had been shredded without mercy around the gut and the thigh. The right side of the shoulder had a visible gash running through and through while the left arm had been completely ripped off. The throat had been attacked with beastly claws while the bearded face was covered in bloodied grime and the worst filth present on the planet, almost making the commander barely recognise his brother. The breaths were shallow but silent, bringing just a slight hint of hope back in T'Challa’s heart.

“No one,” his lowered but heavy voice echoed through the room, bringing the agitated healers standing behind him to rise to attention and not miss a single word coming out of the one person they knew would not go for their head had they brought this incident to someone else’s attention, “and I mean not a single entity outside this place needs to know about this. Is that clear?”

“Yes, archangel,” the voices sang in monotonous union with bowed heads despite knowing that they were not even being looked at with so much as a doubt filled glance.

“The White Wolf shall remain hidden and the news of his death needs to remain so till I say otherwise.”

T'Challa stepped towards the bedside, his hands grazing over the familiar bloodied and ripped armour carrying a star right in the middle of the chest.

“I will find out to betrayed the protector of this realm and bring him to justice.”

A shallow gasp brought his attention to the man lying on the bed, forcing him to bend a little when he watched the White Wolf flinch as if seeing a nightmare in his sleep.

“Barnes?” T'Challa called out with his usual softness, bringing his hand to rest over the shoulder missing the limb.

Within a flash, the other hand grabbed the strong darker arms as hollow blue eyes shot open and growled at the brown eyes.

“Where is she?” The Sargeant grunted through his bloodied teeth, never letting go of his brother’s arm from his death grip while T'Challa made no efforts to press the hand away.

“Where is who?”

Another painful growled left him as the pain resurfaced inside his brain.

“Find her. Find-”

The blue that was looking at the Panther with the strength of a burning star pressing right into his existence suddenly turned into a sombre reflection of the moon peeking out of the tumultuous rain clouds going where the wind was flowing.

“Please,” he whimpered through the moisture that dripped down his skin, washing away the filth to reveal a stroke of the pale skin underneath before the blue dilated and the eyelids closed to sink back into unconsciousness.


	3. The Numbness

The light bulb in the hallway of the second floor flickered. It had done so for the past three years and no one had bothered to fix it. People either ignored it or muttered some curse words towards the bulb and then towards the landlord for not fixing it. One or two had actually bothered to twist the thing around and check whether it was loose. They were either the ones who lived on this floor or were acquaintances of the ones living on this floor. But the acquaintances eventually lost interest and left while the ones who lived here got used to it.  
The lift to the second floor dinged and your weary figure was dimly lit by the light from the hallway bulb. It took you a few moments and the sound of the lift doors closing to realize you were already home. You dragged your laptop bag out of the lift, never bothering to pick it up. You walked the entire length of the wooden-floored hallway unwarily banging the bag with your dirty brown boots with a posture of someone who had just lifted a trunk on their shoulders.  
The door right at the end of the hallway was the only thing that stopped you from walking further. Realising you had to take out the key from your bag, you took one deep breath before lifting the bag up. That scarcely filled thing felt like a good few pounds as your whole body felt the muscles scream silently.  
As you fiddled through your bag, the door to the apartment on the right of the lift opened and out came a woman in an oversized shirt and boxers. She was in her late forties, with perfect auburn shoulder length hair and a graceful six feet plus-size model body. Not Calvin Klein plus size.  
“Oh! Hey Nada! I slipped your bills in your apartment. John’s got a new collection of painting tools that his company’s launching next month. Come check it out right now.”  
You found your keys and stood there with them in your hands, staring at them aimlessly for a few seconds.  
“Not today Jo.” Your voice cracked as you put your keys to use.  
There was an awkward pause before Joanne ‘Jo’ Daniels said “okay” and looked in her young friend’s direction.  
Without another word, you clicked the door open, dragged your bag on the floor, and shut the door behind you quietly.  
“Take care of yourself, Y/N,” Joanna whispered as she stood under the flickering light bulb. She waited some time for her neighbour to open the door before giving up and going back into her apartment.  
Your place was a plane one bedroom apartment. The entrance opened into a hallway that worked as a division between the kitchen on the left and bedroom on the right and opened into the quite spacious living room. This ridiculously white apartment had colours only because you had brought them over. You were never a fan of white. White things got dirty quickly which was why you always bought things in different colours—from your coffee table coasters to your bed sheets, from the wall hangings to the bathroom mugs. You had even made sure your carpets were not near any shades of white before you had moved in.  
Now you dragged yourself across the grey carpet that looked liked it had not been cleaned in weeks. Letting go of the bag, you removed your warm jacket and placed it on the coffee table over empty cans of soda. Moving carefully over all the dirty laundry, you made your way to the bathroom, switched on the light and looked at yourself for the first time in the entire day.  
Your skin looked dirty and rough, marked with leftovers of acne here and there. Your eyes had considerable bags around them and they had been getting bigger with every passing day. The Y/E/C eyes had no light in them. Your hair had been continuously falling every day. Your once fat body now looked lean and without any strength. Your back felt like it had been hollowed to take out your heart and crush it. The pain back there had started feeling normal with every passing day.  
You could not find anything in the mirror to appreciate tonight, again. So you did what you had been doing for the past three weeks. You broke down on the bathroom floor, crying silently as the tears readily rolled down your cheeks.  
It had been almost three weeks since you had slept, having tried every sleep hack there was on the internet in the first week. In the second week, you had tried asking different doctors, who had done nothing but recommend sleeping pills and exercises. If there was any medication you were afraid of, it was sleeping pills. Anything but sleeping pills.  
By the end of the second week, you had given up. Your head continuously throbbed violently because of lack of rest and your hearing became sensitive— even the most minute of a noise sending a thousand pricks in your head while your heartbeat never seemed to slow down to a normal pace. Eventually, you’d lost your appetite and interest in anything and everything, just laying there in your house, staring at the ceiling, outside the window, inside the refrigerator, aimlessly looking into the void, waiting for some miracle to put you to sleep.  
The notification sound from your phone sent down a piercing pain in the back of your head. You looked at the screen and saw a message from Jo.  
 _It won’t go till you find the root of whatever’s messing with your head._  
There were days when you were glad you had Jo by your side. But in this pool of endless pain, you were frustrated to be living right next to a psychologist. What was worse than that was the fact that you knew Jo was not wrong. You knew exactly what was gnawing at the insides of her brain.  
You were about to throw your phone away when it buzzed.  
The caller ID showed MRS. RIVERS, forcing you to let out a painful groan.  
“Mrs Rivers?” your soft voice cracked.  
“Y/N, honey.” Mrs Rivers was hysterical. “The kids. Peter. He’s gone.”  
Your brain was trying to suppress all the tension vibrating inside it by Mrs Rivers’ piercing voice. “I’m sorry Mrs Rivers. What do you mean Peter is gone?”  
“He’s missing. Daisy and Ned are crying. I don’t know what to make of it. Please bring Jo over. Nothing is making any sense.”  
You took a few moments to let everything register inside your brain. Peter is missing. You wanted to feel some type of emotion over the news but none came out. You assured Mrs Rivers you and Jo will be there in five minutes and quickly texted Jo for meeting you near the lift in five.  
Splashing your face with some cold water and taking a painkiller to numb your nerve endings, you tried to prepare whatever sane part of you want left to interact with people for the next hour.  
“It’s just an hour,” you stressed to your reflection before grabbing your jacket and leaving the apartment.  
You just did not know this was going to be the longest night of your life.  
  
Cadence Rivers, the landlady, lived in the building right opposite to the apartments she owned. She was an African-origin woman in her fifties who looked like she could be in her thirties. Her well-kept physique never could give away how old she was in numbers and her exquisite outfits only made it harder for people to take a guess.  
Apart from renting the apartments, her income came from a child care facility she owned in the building where she lived. The facility covered an area of about half an acre— the centre on the ground floor with the open playing field outside, separated from the forest area lying on the town’s boundary with a concrete wall and barbed wires.  
You could see a search party already heading for the woods to look for Peter. The siren of another police car arriving still made your head throb despite the painkillers. You tried to head inside the building as fast as possible with Jo right ahead of you.  
As you both passed through the hallway, you could see the childcare filled with dead silence. The lights gave it somewhat an ominous look and the more you stared at it, the more uncomfortable it felt.   
_Oh fuck. What did you kids get yourself into now?_  
And as you walked out of the lift on to the second floor, you knew it was exactly what you had been thinking. Rather, what you had feared.  
The corridor leading to Cadence’s apartment was filled with policemen and a few detectives.   
“Joanne? What are you doing here?” The softer of the two detectives beamed on seeing the psychologist who had helped the law on multiple occasions while also writing papers, reading the entire series of Game of Thrones and freelancing for multiple businesses as well as individuals in the city.  
“Peggy,” Jo greeted the brunette with her signature kind smile, “how are you, dear?”  
The other detective seemed like a perfect face who had strolled right out of a wild woman’s dream but the woman had forgotten to give him a visible sense of appreciation for people who would work on the same project as he did; he must be friendly normally but the first impression wasn’t turning out in his favour.  
 _Takes one to know one_ , your inside voice screamed. Even though your nerves were numb, you could feel the very pitch of the voice tear some of the cells inside her.  
After explaining her and your relationship with Cadence, the detectives happily let Jo and her plus one walk inside.  
The apartment’s soft grey walls brought you some undefined comfort as you gathered yourself to witness two kids and their parents going through the worst possible scenario. The parents were sitting holding their kids tight in Cadence’s study. As soon as you and Jo entered the room, Daisy told her mother she wanted to go home. That was the last clue you needed to confirm your theory.  
Jo held out her ID for the parents and asked them for their permission to look at how their kids were doing. The parents agreed but hesitated from leaving their kids with her in the study. Cadence stepped forward and defended both Jo and you. She lied to them saying you were Jo’s inter- assistant in training. Though you were confused you knew it was better to go along with Cadence’s judgments than question them as she always had a good reason behind it.  
As the parents were going outside, Daisy’s father, for some reason, looked at you with such a piercing gaze that you had to draw herself to the back of the room to avoid the tiny cold pricks in your back. As soon as the concerned adults were outside you heard the father whisper _who is that girl_ to his wife.  
Jo was calmest of the three adults left in the room. With her soothing yet authoritative voice, she asked the kids if they needed anything and whether they were comfortable with Cadence and you in the room. Ned asked for something to drink and he was good. Daisy, on the other hand, tried to avoid any eye contact with you.  
“Would you like some lemonade? I’ll make some for everyone.” you eyed Daisy with zero emotions as you left the study.  
 _Lemonade. That should help us somehow._  
You could hear the light footsteps following you into the kitchen but tried not to make a big deal about it. You knew it was Daisy’s father, hating herself at that very moment for reasons known only to whatever inside you were creating a cocktail of fear and guilt.  
You had volunteered multiple times at the child care and had been a good enough acquaintance of Cadence to know your way around the house and yet in your eyes, you were only a workforce for Cadence.  
Taking two lemons, soda and mint out of the refrigerator, watching him from the corner of your eye but electing to ignore his presence, you went about squeezing the lemons and crushing the mint leaves in a jug. Heartbeat pulsating at an abnormally level now, your brain had stopped making the fight and flight decisions at that moment. Just as you turned around to look for the sugar syrup, Daisy’s father suddenly stepped in front of you, blocking your path.  
“Excuse me, Sir I—” your low and tired voice was interrupted by the man’s sharp bitter one.  
“Lilly tells me you were here occasionally, working at the child care centre and that the kids really like having you around.”  
You were about to speak when the man took a step closer, forcing the alarm bells to go off in your body. Cautiously, you took a step back from the man, doing your best not to make the throbbing inside every body part worse than it already was.  
“So you must know what the kids usually did here, mustn’t you?” the man took one more step in your direction.  
“Sir, I just used to volunteer here time and again. I’m sure a regular employee would answer your questions better.”  
You tried to walk past him but without any warnings, he grabbed your arm and hissed with uncontrollable rage, “If you know where my son is, tell me. Somebody tell me what happened to him or I swear that I will burn every bone in the body of the person who had anything to do with my son, from the inside out. Where is my son?”  
You didn’t hear the question, neither did you hear the detective come in and ask the man to let go of you. All you could feel was the force on your arm and all you heard was a scream. Your existence went cold for a second as the cries of someone in pain filled your head.  
“Hey, are you all right?”  
The smell of heavily splashed Tom Ford cologne brought you back to the kitchen. The detective was now the only person in the room beside you. Gripping the kitchen island for some external support, you nodded in the name of assurance.  
“Parents usually do this in cases of a missing child. They’re not able to see things clearly.”  
You cleared your throat, shrugged off the uneasiness in your body and continued making the lemonade.  
“It’s okay. I understand.”  
The detective noticed your hands quivering but spoke nothing about it.  
You tried to pass a smile but it hurt your face muscles so much that you tried to remember the last time you had actually smiled. You couldn’t really remember.  
 _Maybe it was when Ahana’s dog had come over for the day._  
Ahana’s dog had died six months ago.  
“Are you sure you’re doing okay, miss? You seem…forgive me for saying this…tired and exhausted.”  
Before you could try to make something up in your head for an excuse of an answer, Cadence walked in and took the tray ready with the cold lemonade.  
“Jo needs you. Come.”  
You took your glass, excused yourself from the detective, gulped down the harsh fizz by the time you reached the study. Upon entering the page-scented room, you saw Ned crying while Daisy had nearly sunk into the sofa. You sat down right next to Ned and within no time this six-year-old was hugging you while bursting into more tears.  
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Ned muffled into your jacket.  
Jo couldn’t make out his exact words while Daisy looked at Ned as if she was going to eat his head off. You wrapped your arms around him while not taking your eyes off Daisy, leaving her no choice to retrieve her gaze of destruction.  
“Daisy, what did you do?” you were done for the day, not taking anyone’s crap now.  
Jo was surprised at this sudden yet outrightly direct question but she knew better than to speak anything for the time being.  
Daisy clenched her teeth, trying everything in any twelve-year-old’s imaginative limit to ignore you.  
“Daisy I swear if you don’t answer my question, I’ll bring your father in and make him spell it out of you when I tell him what you had been up to when we last met.”  
The mention of her father brought a certain fear into the girl’s eyes. Under usual circumstances, Jo might have requested you to stop blackmailing a child by using the fear her parents had built inside her, but at that moment she could see a side of you that was not adhering to the emotional human rules. There was something uneasy about you that Jo didn’t want to poke at.  
“Don’t. I’ll tell you everything but do not tell him about this.”  
Jo could see this little girl was not joking around. She scribbled something in her notepad for future reference and brought her complete attention to Daisy and you.  
“We were messing around with the book I had found in the library last month. It had these crazy symbols all over it and had some sort of magic spells inside that could bring magical creatures from another world.”  
“Where is it? Give it to me.” You brought forward her hand while Daisy looked at you with the eyes of a puppy.  
“Now!” Your own commanding voice made you flinch, a part of questioning the harshness towards a child. But then again, you were too tired to be sweet and wait for them to spill out everything.  
Daisy took out of her jacket what seemed to be a journal. You grabbed it and shoved it into yours.  
“Go on.”  
“There was this one page where it was written we could call the spirit of the world and ask him for anything. Like genie. So I told Peter and Ned to chant with me. It’s not like I forced these two. They were as curious as I was.”  
Jo looked at you for a response but all she got was silence.  
“Then, we heard strange noises from outside like a man screaming but Mrs Geller wouldn’t listen to us. And suddenly all the lights went out and we heard a loud roar and something crash and we all screamed and ran for the door but it wouldn’t open and then there was a man in the dark and he tried to grab us but the lights came back and the next thing we knew was there was no one there. Not even Mrs Geller. And Peter was missing.”  
Daisy was nearly out of breath and filled with fear for the life of her brother for the first time tonight.  
“What did you do then?”  
“I took Ned and came over to Mrs Cadence’s apartment. She called the police.”  
“What did you tell the detectives?”  
“Everything…except the book. I said we were reading something.”  
You then looked over to teary-eyed Ned and he nodded. Picking up the tissue box from the coffee table, you brought it towards the kids to clean up his eyes and nose, turning your empty gaze at Jo to resume asking questions.  
Jo went ahead and asked them anything and everything through which she could evaluate what they were going through and concluded their time by assuring them that the police will find their brother.  
After talking to their parents she made sure the detectives knew how to proceed with the kids if they ever needed to talk to them again.  
“Thank you for letting me do this Peggy. You too, Barton. I hope next time we meet, it’s at a bar to drink one of your concluded cases,” Jo stated, taking her jacket from Barton, who smiled for the first time that night.  
“But this time you are bringing John with you,” Barton commanded with a softness in his eyes.  
  
“Well, if I were those two guys over there I’d definitely think it was a human, whole flesh and blood, who has taken Peter and has something to do with Martha.” Jo gulped down her lemonade and her face showed every ounce of happiness that cold fizzy drink going down her throat gave her.  
“But you’re not,” you alleged, feeling your brain absorb zero of the conversation going on around you.  
“Clearly. I like to keep an open mind. Even with the non-human stuff. What do you think?”  
With a nonchalant shrug, you rubbed your eyes and yawned too loudly to cover your mouth on time forcing Jo to order you to go home and try to get as much shut-eye as you could get.  
“And will you be handing that thing over as evidence?” Jo asked with null expression.  
And here you thought you’d almost slipped that book through the place.  
“And let the kids be tortured for being curious about the wrong things that they did not know were wrong because none of the adults told them? No! Had I taken this thing away from Daisy last month, Peter might still be here.”  
Jo’s expression changed in an instant. She went from a calm no-fuckery yogi to a woman of ardent force.  
“You’re doing it again young lady; beating yourself up. No one’s doing it to you but yourself. Besides, you really think this book or someone ominous chant had something to do with Peter’s disappearance?”  
Silence.  
“Just covering all the grounds, Jo. Relax, you know I’m not suicidal. Just a bit irritated. So, yeah, if I see blame somewhere near me, I take it, as always. Just please don’t preach me right now. You know I can only bear one thing at a time. I’m taking the book. It’ll only make things worse for Cadence if I don’t. See you tomorrow.“ 

You didn’t look back, not even to check out the handsome detectives in the garden. The sounds were tenfold with the burning emotions inside you as it is.  
Things grew quieter once you reached your apartment. Putting down your handbag on the coffee table, you stared at it for a good ten minutes, thinking about all possibilities if this book was a real deal. The first time you’d seen that book was in the child care’s library. This book was nowhere near the genre of books kept for children to read and still it had somehow wound up in the poetry section.  
 _Of course, it did_ , you scoffed, _which of these kids would even go near a Robert Frost work till they’re old enough to just flunk it?_  
You speculated it might have been left by one of the contributors who brought in second-hand books— in no less than perfect conditions— to add to Cadence’s library every six months. You had found the book quite amusing. It was more of a journal or a how-to guide that seemed pretty old; spells and rituals inside the book like no other you had ever come across considering how much you read about the supernatural in your free time, which was a lot.  
What you had not expected was Daisy walking up to you to claim that she had called dibs on that book before you. The little one had found it one day while looking for John Keats’ collections and it was the first time in your life you had hated a literary enthusiast. You did try to reason with Daisy that it wasn’t a book for kids but the four feet tall know-it-all knew better, leading her to shoot names of different spell books, Russian folklore, Pagan rituals at you that you barely knew about. Where you had scratched the surface, this young girl had dissected and researched the basic organs of the supernatural.  
“You have to promise me you won’t go around messing with any of the stuff written inside.”  
You were surprised at yourself for having felt the urge to take Daisy by the collar and say, “Listen, you little shit. No matter how many books you might have gulped down from your parents’ money, but it takes one step in the curious direction for you to turn dead with your innards spilt across the walls around you, you hear me?”  
But you had been in comparatively better spirits back then, never letting those harsh thoughts at a purely curious mind to come out.  
One month later, here you were, with the book, the same girl scared of what her parents might say if they found out she had been playing with something so dark, and a child disappearing into thin air. All you could feel now and then between the pain was the regret of not taking away the book from her in time and maybe, just maybe, Peter might still be here.  
Wiping off the tears that had come out of nowhere, you went into your bathroom and showered with the hottest setting possible. It was nearly five past eleven when you came back in the living room in your most trusty pair of jeans and a Lord of the Rings blue tee.  
Clearing the table, you placed the book on it and started flipping the pages. Your eyes scanned the titles of the spells one by one till they found what they were looking for.  
 _Summoning The Master._  
The spell had a huge warning written in red before it mentioned the ingredients and the procedure.  
 _This spell should only be used when you need to have a direct conversation with The Master of the Universe and all the other spells have either failed or wrongfully used by the summoner. The Master’s summoning comes with a prize. Please be ready to offer The Master what he desires when he desires. The spell might not work in the presence of energies that might try to break the link between the summoner and the summoned. Blocking such energies is highly advised. Use this spell at your own risk._  
Perfect, you groaned, _even summoning the devil requires protocols. What kind of moron calls Satan the master of the universe?_  
 _His biggest fan-girl maybe._  
The more you thought about it, the more you could feel the presence of the pain in your back.  
You lumped back into your sofa and stared at the plain ceiling for a while before turning your gaze to the things around you. Everything was a mess. Dirty dishes in the sink with room fresheners sprayed on them time and again, dirty laundry on the floor from your room to the sofa with books and files scattered in between them.  
Then your eyes accidentally went to a photograph on the top of your bed staring directly at you, opposite from where you were sitting right now. If anything inside your house was in place, it was that photograph framed with the darkest wood you could find that would complement the white void around you. It was a picture of you smiling without a care in the world in your father and mother’s arms. You looked at your father’s smile which had nearly closed his eyes in the picture and his muscular arms wrapped around you while your mother’s hands rested on his.  
That’s it. That photograph was the one thing still intact in the chaos around you. Your eyes brimmed with an emotional wave that had been crashing on the walls of the dam for quite some time. As you restrained yourself from shedding any more tears, a quiet thought passed through the back of your mind. A thought that didn’t make a hue and cry but had weight enough to make everything else go mute for a whole minute. With an intake of your strongest breath in the past six months, you strained your lungs and went for the notepad lying near the foot of the sofa. Making a list, looking at it with affirmation, you added one more thing and then burned it with a lighter lying on your coffee table before etching that list in your mind.  
With one long sigh, you got up and went to one of the cabinets and took out a sealed bottle of Jagermeister. You searched for the shot glasses you had gifted yourself on your twentieth birthday. They had been barely used. One even had the price still stuck to it.  
Washing the glasses, wiping them dry, you took one and turned it upside down on the coffee table while filled the other one and gulped the concoction down in one go. It took two more shots to send your brain into one necessary daze for what you were about to do.  
After the third shot, you did not pause for a single moment to contemplate your next action and worked through the procedure like a well-oiled machine- following instructions to the letter, devoid of any emotion.  
Grabbing the knife from your breakfast table, you slashed through your palm slowly and let the blood drip on the glass to form a circle around a decorative candle in the middle of the coffee table. Lighting up the candle, you whispered the spell in the book and blew it.  
Everything around you went dark.   
For the first time in one very long and torturous while, the screams inside your head went silent too.  
You knew there was no going back now.


	4. Dream of Me

He floated in the expanse of the great blue that surrounded him. The galaxies glittered, their movements akin to a bud unfurling. The gold, the green, the red; strokes of plasmic artistry of the universe played the oceanic harps around him.

_ Breathtaking. _

He moved his arms in front of him to touch the ghost of shadows of the space dust. The left one- the one adorned in glistening black, as black as the space reflecting on its surface, decorated with lined edges like golden threads- cut the sparkling red dust through his gloved fingers while the flesh arm felt the cold of the abyss over its fingertips.

It was refreshing- the cold- a vacuum of relief layering his aching existence in this illuminated void.

_ Then why does it hurt? _

He was not supposed to feel such intensity. How could he? He was an angel. The warrior of dimensions. The protector of realms. The spirit of the universe. He was supposed to be the most sublime creation of his maker.

_ Was he not? _

Then why did his chest feel just like the blue void he was floating in? 

_ Hollow. Unsettled. Bruised. Broken. _

"Bucky?"

The faintest of wavelengths mingling with some unknown medium touched the nerves in his ears.

He strained his senses even more.

"Bucky."

A voice too familiar to him came closer. And closer still.

"It's you," he barely whispered into the unknown and felt himself question the supposedly vacuumed space around him when he heard himself.

"Bucky?" A shiver of worry resonated in the voice as he felt the much-needed heated touch on his skin.

The blue surrounding him seemed to get deeper and deeper as his chest felt an ever-increasing weight slowly crush it.

"It really is you."

His eyes went wider to take in the entirety of the figure floating in front of him.

The strands of hair he remembered all too clearly- that had used every opportunity to tease him in all the right ways- floated with the beauty of the most alluring aquatic flora and fauna. The eyes that had warmed his soul ever since he first saw them glimmered with love, the colours too pure for their own good. The lips that he had chased so often, seemed to part in question for him, the mere thought of their tenderness still erupting waves of unadulterated light inside him.

His existence floating in zero gravity drew closer to that face- clearly purer than his in every possible way- as his flesh arm seemingly drew itself near that innocence, wanting to touch the intimate flushed and perfectly imperfect skin.

His fingers grazed over the cheeks, leaving behind streaks of muddied darkness.

"Bucky?" The voice wavered with a vocal hint of hurt and a lingering wince of betrayal as the most powerful archangel watched his hands in shock before looking back at the stains of darkness spreading across that precious skin, engulfing every fibre of that woman's being with the speed of mad plague eating everything in its way.

"No," left Bucky's breathless state, his hand trying to reach out for that figure, who was bring carefully caressed by claws of darkness- one gently taking her by her waist, the other tucking her hair strands behind her ear- while she looked at Bucky with tired eyes.

"Why did you do this, Bucky?"

The words slapped him farther away from her as he watched two tiny but brilliant red orbs take shape right behind her shoulder, mocking him with a muted snicker, burning his soul bit by bit as he watched her be slowly consumed by it.

A heart wrenching gasp escaped as he tried to force himself towards the black goo covering her legs, curling around her naked limbs, sprawling all over her belly, climbing her chest before going up to her neck and drowning her in it seemingly dreadful blackness.

"NO!" He wanted to scream but the pain escaped his lungs as he watched her disappear from the blue.

"Barnes?" Someone called from outside the blue, making he resurface with a fright-filled gasp, his flesh hand holding that of his brother-in-arms, T'Challa.

"Where is she?" His lungs hurt as if he had actually been drowned in the emptiness with the weight of the world over his entirety.

T'Challa’s face showed nothing but blankness shaded in hues of worry, those fiery oceans of brown not looking at the things like he was.

"Where is who?"

_ Who? _

Her face flashed in front of Bucky's blue eyes, making it growl with animalistic fury.

_ Her! _

"Find her. Find-" he hissed with every drop of strength being squeezed through his lungs.

He needed to know she was safe.

_ He just needed to know she was... _

"Please." The last breath gave way as these human eyes felt themselves blur, the fatigue taking over his senses limbs, shutting down his brain for good.

With her name as the last drop of the liquid of eternal bliss, he let go.


	5. The Devil Inside

The candle spat a few tiny embers before coming back to life.  
The apartment was still dark. The silence was deafening. The painted portraits on the wall looked sinister in the weak candlelight. The clothes on the floor looked like they would start breathing at any moment.  
There was a rustle behind you that sent a chill down your spine.  
“We…uh… It would be… very kind of you…”  
Your voice wavered. You could feel a nauseating pressure all around, knowing there was someone or something else present in your apartment and it would be better to talk to it face to face for what you were about to ask it.  
The pressure was turning more unsettling with every passing second. You were seeing things now. The portraits were crying tears of blood while your clothes looked like rotten meat scattered all over your apartment. Trying to close your eyes to drive the images away which only lead to hearing someone gnawing through the raw meat.  
“Please, can we talk? Please, just—I’ll give you my soul.” Your stomach could not take it anymore.

Silence.  
You just had to say the s-word and the pressure disappeared and all the lights turned back on. The colourful portraits were just as you had painted them while the clothes were back to normal—dirty and stinky.  
You could breathe again. Your head tried to figure out what to do— feel the pain, the wobbly vibes or the relief— as you touched the cold shot glass at the back of your neck.  
 _Did it fail?_ You couldn’t quite make out what had happened all of a sudden.  
“No, it did not fail.” A deep, daunting voice filled with the sparks of incoherent fear spoke from right next to you.  
Your body temperature dropped and so did the shot glass from your hand, landing on the carpet underneath. You could make out a figure of a man sitting to your left on the sofa beside you from the corner of your eye. Yet you sat there, frozen, not knowing what to do while the figure seemed quite comfortable.  
“Pour me a drink.”  
Even though his voice was expressionless, your nerves were riled up with fear on his every word.  
You quickly poured a shot with shaky hands and presented it to him, your eyes still not going beyond his torso, noticing he was wearing a suit; not just any suit but an expensive one at that.  
The hands that took the drink seemed freshly manicured, pale and long. As they brushed past yours, you felt the cold of those slender fingers transfer to yours.  
Without losing a second, the shot disappeared down the man’s throat and the glass was back on the table without him moving a muscle. Just as you were trying to figure out the trick behind it, the husky voice made you jump.  
“I haven’t got all day.”  
“Yes,” your voice shaking again, you cleared your throat, “I have one…TWO…two tasks for yo—us that would require your…um…expertise and once they’re done you can…ahem… take my soul for… whatever it is that you…do.”  
A tear rolled down your cheek as you tried to compose yourself and failed miserably.  
The figure sat there in silence while your mind was racing with what that thing was thinking right now. You could neither hear him nor see him breathe. It was as if someone had put a mannequin on your sofa while making the movements of the clock in your house echo through the deadly silence between your breaths.  
“There is a boy missing. He might have been abducted. I need your help to get him back to his parents”, you continued.  
You did not hear your own breath for a second. Even if the entity sitting by your side was turning its head sideways, there was not even a wrinkle of sound that would give away the surprise.  
“Of all the things present in this universe, you think I would help you.” The disdain in his deep voice reverberated throughout the apartment like a tiny earthquake.  
 _Why did I think that calling the devil was a good idea?_  
You were somewhat glad you did not have the strength to look at the thing next to you for what you were about to say.  
“The boy might have been abducted by one of your d-demons.”  
You could’ve sworn you felt the apartment lights flicker for a second.  
“What makes you think it is the work of one of mine?”  
Without wasting much time, you pushed the book towards the figure, open it to the spell the kids had been playing with this evening and while doing so accidentally smeared your blood on one of the pages.  
“Pete…um…the kid had been toying around with this tonight before he disappeared.”  
As you presented the particular spell in front of him, your eyes finally fell on the face.  
If the spell had really worked as it should have, then the ruler of hell, the devil— going by his infamous name— was sitting next to you in your apartment right now. For someone who was depicted as the ultimate torturer, the king of despair and the bringer of wrath upon the earth, he cleaned up pretty nice, carried a professional look and a jaw that could cut through anything. His skin looked pale in comparison to many you’d seen before. The longer you looked at him, the more alien that face felt. It felt like looking at a man who would do justice to the role of a psychopath with looks so pure that no one would suspect him to be one and when the revelation came, no one could see him in his purity again.  
You had once read somewhere how the demons used bodies of the people, who had sold their souls, to walk the earth and raise hell. _Was this one doing the same? Or was he someone who had sold his soul and then became a demon? To think that the Devil may be possessing someone else right now_ , you thought what the real person must be going through this very moment.  
“Fine work”, the figure stated as your body jumped and your eyes reverted in a flash.  
“But the trade has been made. The child called this upon himself. There is no saving him now.”  
You took the closest piece of cloth you could find around you to cover your wound while taking the time to stable your heartbeat.  
 _You do not know more than the one sitting in front you. Do not outshine the master._  
“Demons cannot take away a child’s soul…as per my knowledge. They need direct or indirect consent. I am willing to give you mine in exchange for returning that child safely to his family. You are their supreme. No one would dare question the _authority._ ”  
You took a quick glance at that face and saw the jade eyes fixed on you like a panther’s at their playful hunt. You could see a hint of a smirk on the lips but the more your mind tried to fixate on it, the more sinister it felt.  
“What else?” His words sounded more like a command than a question.  
You eyed your thermostat before answering the question.  
“Uhh-yes. I’m not quite sure about the the…the origin or the cause but I think someone I know may need the help of supernatural kind. There is something…not normal feeding on that person I just want…no, I would request you to stop that…thing from causing any more harm.”  
The figure waited for a few moments before speaking. “That’s it? For a person educated in the arts of demonology, I was thinking there would be more dirty chores coming out of that brain of yours.”  
You tried to smile but your muscles hurt more this time.   
“I’m afraid that’s all my brain can come up with now.”  
The entity eyed your fingers digging deep into your palms while your toes barely touched the floor. Those smaragdines could clearly see your aura- the muddied red and green surrounding you while the back of your chest had a tiny whirlpool of grey waves originating just around your chest. Despite all of this, they could see a glint of white right where your heart was- that was struggling to glow between the torrents of the impure red and green near it. Looking at that little ember, the entity knew something was different about this human. Something was quite abnormal about you.  
You poured yourself a shot in your glass and gulped it down in one go. Your body could feel the herbal warmth rush through as it relaxed the nerve endings. The meds had worn off faster today. You did not know what the etiquettes were in hell but it seemed appropriate to pour one for your guest as well.  
“Very well, let’s seal it then. Your soul for the child and the so-called demon.” The man took one good swig and flipped the glass from where he was seated to the table. Had the glass not landed like the work of a professional beer pong champion, you might’ve nearly lost it.  
“So, w-where do I sign?” your voice still quivered but the fear in it was no longer visible on the surface.  
“Too eager to get my hands on you, are we?”  
His chuckle sent icicles piercing through your skin all over your body, leaving no cell immune to the vibrations.  
“Not before we agree on your lifetime. Now, I would love nothing more than to take you straight away to hell, but I am impressed you didn’t,” he paused as he looked around himself, “manage to blow yourself up while having the audacity to summon me. I can only give you two weeks. Enjoy them as much as you can. There would be literal hell after that. Unimaginable torture and pain; I don’t think I have to explain that to you.”  
You looked at your wound for a moment before putting your number on the table.  
“Five.”  
The Devil’s eyes glowed for a fraction of a second at the sheer guts of the young woman sitting in front of him.  
“Are you trying to nego—”  
“Days.”  
For the first time that night, the ruler of hell had been left speechless. He looked at the girl who had still not seen the Devil in the eyes and yet given him a five-second thrill.   
“So you do have a death wish. What are you going to do with your five precious days?” he seemed genuinely curious.  
You shrugged as you massaged your head to get rid of this sudden pain you were experiencing in your temples. “I don’t know, become your best friend, I guess.”  
Neither of the two had expected what came out of your mouth. You wanted to look at your brain and shout at the oddity of your words while the figure sat there contemplating the statement.  
There had been silence between them a couple of minutes ago but this one seemed comparatively odd and quite uncomfortable.  
“Um…What I meant was it might take us time to find the b—”  
“I’d love to see where this goes.”  
You turned towards the man who had just uttered these words looking at him with unexplainable surprise. For a second you thought you’d misheard him. You could say with some surety he was quite surprised himself. But the glimmer in his eyes felt more like excitement than surprise.  
“So, let’s sign this, shall we?” He got up and straightened his suit.  
You followed and felt the Jager inside you work its magic, making you step on your own toe to go face down. A huge thump was followed by a wounded groan. The Devil looked at his watch before looking down at his new client.  
“Minnerva,” he commanded to the thin air.  
You tried your best to get up gracefully while looking at him in confusion preparing to speak when the lights in the apartment flickered again. A rumbling sound echoed in the apartment as if a train was passing through. You held the back of the sofa tightly in case your new ‘best friend’ was actually trying to call a train here, hearing your glasses vibrating in the cupboard eyeing them with worry while never letting go of the sofa.  
 _Hell or not, my Nana’s glasses better not fall_.  
“You called for me, Sire?”  
You turned your head towards the heavy but smooth voice and saw a woman standing in front of you. That woman could have been a perfect example of the flawless Asian beauty, had she been a living, breathing human. Her eyes were dark, nearly black while her hair was tied in a huge bun with not a single strand coming out. She was clearly taller than you- and you were seemingly pretty tall on your good days- clothed in a rusty brown leather jacket on top of a plain black tee and brown pants.  
 _She still looks more professional than me even when I am in my pantsuit*, you thought to yourself.  
Maybe it’s her glasses._  
“Minnerva, create a contract for-” the Devil looked at you to complete his sentence.  
“Y/N”, Minnerva answered.  
You wanted to ask Minnerva a thousand questions but clearly couldn’t, watching in silent awe as Minnerva took out from inside her jacket what looked like a tablet and started typing with amazing speed. She was given the terms and deadline for the ‘soul handover’. The only time she paused and looked up from her tablet was when her boss mentioned in passing- with the most effortlessly vicious smirk- how he and you were going to be friends for five days. You could have sworn Minnerva had eyed you with zero emotions as if to say ‘your funeral’.   
In no time, the contract was ready in its final draft. Minnerva flipped the tab open and out came a paper with everything written down in clear simple English.  
“This is for you. Please put your index finger here.”  
Minnerva handed over the paper to you and directed you to sign the contract with your fingerprint. You looked at the device in Minnerva’s hand and could clearly tell it was neither an Android nor an Apple product. This was technology on another level. The interface had a language you could not understand. They were symbols and letters that you were quite sure were not from this world.  
Exhaling and muttering a tired ‘whatever’ under your breath, you put your finger where the contract ended. There was a piercing sensation on your finger and it was only after you had removed your it from the metal that you noticed the surface of the tablet having multiple tiny needles taking up the exact shape of your fingerprint, covered in your blood.  
“There we go. Now you and I can be best friends till I rip your soul out for my demons in a week.”  
The perfect white teeth peeked through his cold grin only brought worse thoughts in your head.  
 _I just screwed myself and yet I feel nothing._  
“You have my services till Friday or till Sire would like you to be his best friend, Miss Y/L/N. You just need to call out my name.” Minnerva said, in her most professional robotic voice.  
“Please, call me Y/N. I’d very much prefer Y/N.”   
She looked at you with pure judgment in her eyes making you wonder if she didn’t like being on a first name basis with you.  
“That would all Minnerva, thank you very much.”  
Without as much as, what you would call in your current state of mind, a woosh, Minnerva disappeared. You wondered whether the demons were like some video games, taking ages and your will to live to load a new chapter the very first time but did it in a flash from thereon. You wanted to find out so your mouth made a tiny squeak barely audible as the devil stood right opposite you with his hands in his pant pockets, trying to understand what this dull human was up to.  
Minnerva reappeared right beside you whispering straight into your ear, “You called for me”, startling you hard where you stood.  
For some reason, that only you knew, you did not want to make a bad impression in front of the Devil and his right hand.  
“Yes, yes I did. I…wanted to ask where you got that jacket from. I…um…can’t really find women jackets that have inside pockets, that too large enough to keep an entire…otherworldly tab-tablet,” you babbled, trying your best to make eye contact with her but failing to do so.  
Minnerva tilted her head a little before proceeding to answer the question.  
“I’ll find out a human store and let you know before I dispose of this vessel.”  
“No!” you shouted too loudly for your own brain, “I mean please don’t dispose of her, like don’t kill her.”  
She looked at you for a second before turning to her master, the rest of her body not having budged from the time she appeared there.  
He had his arms crossed in amusement. He shrugged his shoulders, making Minnerva turn back to you and disappearing before saying, “As you wish.”  
The Devil could not believe what new force was running this universe to have turned his drag of a day in hell into a minion search party with this clearly diseased human. What he did know was that he was going to make the most of his next five days on earth.  
“Okay, how are we going to get back Peter.” You seemed a bit enthusiastic now.  
“Now, now, my little earthly pet,” the Devil nearly sang out for you, “would you not like to seal the contract with the Devil?”  
Your brows crinkled while your head swirled.  
*Then what did I just do with those tiny needles?*  
“That was more of an EM trail that we need to keep.”  
You felt your heart skip a beat.  
He was reading your thoughts.  
“We,” he began, stepping closer to you, a playful smirk finding its way on his lips as your eyes tried not to look at his, “need to seal it with a kiss.”  
Blank.  
That’s what your mind was for the instant.  
*…what*  
His voice made a rerun inside your head before taking two more tries to seep in.  
“Oh,” you said softly, “okay.”  
A light chuckle filled the air and you realised you responded a little too fast even after the slow absorption of your brain.  
Lowering his head a little, the Devil’s intentional cold breath tickled your lips, his eyes taking in your chaste reactions before looking up and away from you but never moving his lips out of the way.  
“But first let’s find out if you can handle the taste of something even half as disdainfully delicious as me,” he whispered right into your mouth, your tongue tasting something sweet and spicy- almost minty- over its buds.  
All you could do was nod.  
“Okay…okay…mister…w-what can I call you?”  
For a flicker of a second, you saw a spark of red light of the rims of his brilliant green pupils. A smile stretched the lips further than you would have liked to see them go, revealing the perfectly aligned teeth ready to dig into someone- probably you, at some point tonight, according to you.  
“Loki,” he declared, letting the word swirl around your space to settle where and how it liked.


	6. Paradise Lost

The click of heels of the boots on the granite floor resonated throughout the beige-walled corridor studded with small chandeliers to grace and lighten up the sullen looking atmosphere.   
The doors in this corridor were a repetition of brown teak throughout, which would have seemed like bizarre exact copies had it not been for the wood’s life prints standing out from the fine polish of the surface.  
The red heels stopped in front of one such door and twisted the handle open to welcome themselves to the buzz of a large room neatly decorated with rows of systems that seemed to resemble the earthly computers but were far beyond that three-dimensional technology. On each system was a human wearing something resembling a uniform- with the only difference being the hues of each individual throwing the shade of emotions all over the place.  
All heads turned towards the blonde that had just entered the space. The perfect golden strands neatly tied in a bun, she kept walking through the aisle that seemed to have been set just for her to avoid any and all contact with the beings neatly scattered around her.  
“Pepper,” a voice a little too familiar over her shoulder called out for her, “Ross and I have news for you.”

Pepper passed the warmest smile she thought a human could, never slowing down her pace towards her predetermined destination.  
“Strange,” she greeted the man who had the grace of a feline that was appreciated- and to a level even feared- by the angels of the lower dimensions, “good day to you too. Are you and your earthlings always this impertinent?”  
Ross could not help but wonder at the petite figure- that had the gait of the most precious fae of her realm- that was clad in a dress that reflected shades of hue while Strange- composed as ever- never faltered from the blue that he wore. He himself was doused in muddied shades, courtesy his anxious thoughts running all over the place.  
“You look stressed, Ross,” Pepper mentioned without ever turning to look at him as she walked into the lone room with walls that separated the rest of the white space from her one private wide square. One swivel of her hips and she sat down in the comfortable white chair behind the rosewood desk.  
Ross was about to say something when he saw, from the corner of his eyes- Strange gesture him to take a breath and step back.  
For the first time that day, Pepper looked around the space she had entered.  
Every other angel sat in a human vessel, going about their work on the alloy tablets, letting their wavelengths work for them till something quite crucial required the special attention of the movement of their limbs. Every angel wore the shade they felt at that moment. There were actual rainbows all over the place spread across the white space; everything working and shining with subtle perfection. Everything but Pepper’s eyes. Strange noticed them way too well. Experience both in his home and on the battlefield had taught him what superficial emotions that did not shine through the eyes meant.  
“Nice work with the Logistics Division, your grace,” Pepper passed a warm smile towards Strange that did not reach her eyes, “even with these angels in human vessels, they are doing quite the job.”  
Ross looked at the king of this realm and wondered what his silence really meant. Was he letting Pepper run the show? Was he already planning on crossing her? Was there a third way out that he still did not know?  
“All right,” she finally sighed, settling back in her seat to address the angels that had followed her inside her supposedly private space, “what is it?”  
Strange solidified a tablet out of thin air to show it to the angel who was now in charge of the earthly incidents lately since the change in power.  
Ross, all this while, looked at the exchange in between the two angels, all the while wondering how the ruler could be so calm and contained in such a crisis? No emotions over his face? How?  
Is that what going behind the enemy lines does to you?  
“A Nybbas?” Pepper looked up from the tablet in worried shock before going over the report in her hands. “On earth?”  
“There is more…” Strange mentioned rather patiently, studying every emotion washing over the angel sitting in front of him.  
“S-something happened,” Sablo finally spoke, catching the look his highness was giving him from the corner of his eyes, “but all is under control now.”  
But Pepper seemed to be too engrossed in the material she was reading to notice the unadulterated presence of the two beings inside her space.  
What everyone did notice was the change in the hues of Pepper’s dress.  
A dark shade of green overrode the pink she had been wearing as her face grew stern.  
“What is it?”  
Everett Ross, for the first time in his life, found it hard to conjure up words in front of the authority that sat in front of him. What was it about Virginia that had him so on edge?  
“He was apparently conjured by a child that is now missing,” Strange took the lead, giving his companion some room to breathe.  
What Ross did notice though was the hue of his comrade’s shirt turning plain white, reflecting pure nothingness. How he was able to that was beyond this angel.  
“A few seconds earlier,” Strange continued, “he seems to have been…taken care of.”  
Pepper felt every emotion there was on her face before coming in terms with what she had just heard.  
“Excuse me, but,” she raised her fingers trying to gather her thoughts in his new vessel, “how in the Edens did he get up here in the first place? Contracts by children are not binding. It is common knowledge even in the demonic offsprings!”  
“Something more powerful than him sent him here,” Strange continued, his green eyes never giving away more than what was required of him at that moment.  
“And something much more powerful than that…” his turned to give a knowing look to Ross before he continued, “took care of him.”  
His monotonous words were a bit prickly for the angel of graciousness and protection but Ross still stood there as if nothing about the half-veiled conversation bothered him. If only these two knew how much uneasiness his new human vessel was feeling just by standing in the presence of these two.  
“Was there…was there another human involved?”  
Pepper’s questioned seemed to pause everything not only around them but outside the privacy.  
 _Curse these connections_ , she thought to herself, as she noticed the angels through the glass walls looking in her direction.  
“Pepper,” even in his flat tone everyone could hear the stress Stephen Strange tried to put to the name, “your guess is as good as mine.”  
She could feel her limbs drop, her lungs aching to take in a deep breath to compose herself.  
The silent moment that passed through the closed walls stretched for a long while.  
“Well,” she finally spoke, “as long as it was not the Devil himself coming on earth to trade for the souls of humans, I am really not interested.”  
“Though I don’t think I would like to be interested even then,” she muttered to herself as she brought forward her own tab and went to work.  
Strange did not acknowledge her words but neither did he break his eye contact.  
“Yes, Potts,” Ross broke the icy silence, “we will not bother you till we are sure it is, in fact, the devil himself.”  
Ross bowed a little out of habit before he realised what he was doing and straightened himself, nudging the ‘God’s spy’ to get out of this nauseating space.  
But Strange did not seem to flinch from where he stood, the green of his eyes bearing something deep inside them; something no angel was supposed to carry. And for that one lingering cold second, Ross seemed to get lost in those greens to try to find what exactly was going on in there.  
Pepper did not miss any of this.  
“Stephen,” she addressed the angel with his blessed name, “you do realise we have more pressing matters at hand. I am sure the demon Guerilla that our frontlines recently encountered is a more pressing matter than the life of one human.”  
A deep inhale; that was all it took to let Ross know cursed things were about to go down.  
“Virginia,” Strange barely passed a smile, much less than the threat his eyes gave out to the other angel, “with all due respect, I am the one who has experienced life behind the enemy lines while you are nothing but an angel who is responsible for creating reports, maintaining archives and being answerable to your superior but you do not hear me complain about you filing some trumpery in those precious little archives of yours.”  
And Ross thought it had been cold before.  
Silence evaded throughout the rows outside the glass walls where the three most powerful angels stood. All the lower dimensional angels turned to look at the spy wearing pure white standing against the authority over them.  
“Stephen Strange,”  Pepper smiled her best smile, “you are absolutely correct. I am but a mere angel responsible for maintaining the archives in the Great Library, only knowing about every angel, demon, entity, human there exists in this universe. True, that I do not know what it is like to be behind enemy lines, hiding between the filth, masking the purity that you are to appear as sane as the most maniacal beings there are. But I do know what it does to you. I know what it makes you dream. I know exactly what nightmares follow after you come back, Mr-”  
“Doctor.”  
“…Doctor Strange.”  
And just like all head had turned in the direction, they went back to their routine, never once questioning the presence of the angels in that room. It was safer that way. Much safer.  
“If there is anything else that I could do for you…”  
“We will take your leave,” Strange smiled in exchange for the smile he got and turned to walk away, Ross following close behind.  
  
“W-what are we going to do now?”  
Ross thought it was better to stick with him now. Why? He did not know it himself but something strange in this earthly vessel made him a twist in his stomach and follow the man who supposedly seemed to know no fear whatsoever- something both inhumanly surprising and psychotic.  
It seemed like Strange was looking at him for the first time, his head tilting down a bit to study the mixture of fear and wonderment reflecting in those bluish-grey eyes. He carefully studied the vessel Ross had acquired at the very last moment when he had been called down by the spy himself.  
“Where is this earthling from?”  
Strange pressed the elevator button while his companion looked at his own reflection in the polished metal doors.  
“The elevator doors opened and Strange gave way for Ross to enter.  
“This is a man named Watson. Found him on a battlefield. Barely got him away from an explosion when the angel I told you about called for me.”  
“Will there be a search for him?”  
The elevator doors closed.  
“No. He supposedly died in the explosion along with his comrades. Has a sibling but they do not talk. No friends. No other family.”  
“Good,” Strange remarked without missing a beat, “we will be needing that vessel.”  
Ross turned to look at him and wondered how much he was going to strain his neck just to talk to this guy.  
“I would recommend you not to go out in public places, though,” Strange mentioned without ever turning to look at him before Ross realised he was being stared at through the reflection in the mirrored doors in front of them.  
His brows crinkled at the sudden mention of his tiny vessel.  
“So would yours, wouldn’t it?’ he nearly scoffed. His companion was almost six feet two, as it was.  
“Yes,” Ross nodded, “yes, I understand completely. There is…or might be a human life at stake. Even more than one, considering the child and anyone related to them. None of us can really tell what these demons are planning to do with those lives apart from the signature torture of the souls, of course. As much as I hate to oppose the very knowledgeable Virginia, I feel like she should at least send a few resources to assess the situation. But, she is not wrong that we have lost a lot of our comrades on the frontlines because of the guerilla war today. She is smart to have the angels at her disposal working to find out the cause and effect for future attacks and send up the reports for better preparation, even though we know how much she hates war. I still don’t know why T-what?”  
Ross could see a hint of a smirk working its way on Strange’s lips.  
“You think too much,” the spy mentioned courtly.  
The elevator stopped on the Service & Repair floor.  
“I will take that as a compliment,” Ross gesticulated as he stepped out before Strange, who was still not done with the smirk playing in wonderment at the little angel walking in front of him, “I need to cover every aspect, every perspective, before deciding to make a move.”  
“I thought you were the angel of protection,” Strange was quite sauve with the articulation.  
“Yes, I am,” the shorter angel stressed before rolling its eyes.  
“Maybe that’s why you are here with me right now.”  
The corridor they had stepped in was graced with dark walls, something the shorter of the two angels found quite in contrast with his existence.   
Before he could ask about the not so bright surroundings, Strange produced in front of him his personal tablet.  
“Take a look at this,” he directed Ross, who had to make sure he was not dreaming any of this, his vessel already making him woozy.  
Carefully taking the tablet from Strange’s long seemingly manicured hands, Ross studied the complex charts open in front him, his usually crinkled confused brows shooting up a wave of excitement neatly wrapped in surprise.  
“An impulse!”  
Strange nodded.  
“On earth!”  
And smiled.  
“But this is as strong as the ones archangels give out.”  
Strange kept walking, his hands resting on his back as he let Ross’ galactic mind solve this one on his own. He did find it amusing though, to watch the angel next to him engrossed in his tablet, carefully studying the erupting waves on the screen.  
“So, an archangel was here on earth,” Ross muttered himself before his head shot to look at some part of oblivion in front of him, “wait, that is not possible.”  
“Really? Why is that?” Strange’s furrowed brows asked with a forced curiosity, pressing away the amusement on his lips.  
“The time, Stephen!” he nearly shouted, “it is the same timewave when the demons attacked ground Athena. Every archangel was accounted for- whether they were on the battlefield or in some other dimension.”  
“How would you kno-”  
“Of course, I would know that. I am protector,” Ross nearly scoffed as if he was stating a very obvious fact, which he truly was.  
“This standard protocol. During a crisis, every archangel is accounted for by angel of the armies and he himse-”  
Strange stopped as the words disappeared from behind him, forcing him to turn and watch the paleness the vessel had taken as eyes shot wide in dawning horror.  
“It’s him,” Ross finally heard himself declare it out loud while Strange basked in the realisation revealing the layers so dramatically in front of him.  
“Loki has come down on earth.”  
.  
“You have to stop pacing around like that.”  
“Easy for you to say. I am not made for this. I should have never taken up this forsaken responsibility.”  
“Pepper,” the raspy voice from the dark corner cooed towards the angel that plopped herself down into the sofa before rubbing her temples, “you know there was no other way.”  
“Why does it ache so much?” Pepper winced.  
“It is the overthinking stressing you out,” the figure in the dark shrugged at the angel before coming to sit down beside her, “give it a day or maybe three years and you will get used to it.”  
Pepper looked at redhead clothed in blue and black, the dress hugging her as if that was the only shore it knew about. “You are really not helping right now, Natasha.”  
Natasha tried to suppress her smirk. “Sorry.”  
“Don’t you trust me, Pepper?”  
“I do,” she huffed, letting her head sink in the fluffiness of the sofa, “I trust you. That’s why I’m asking you to do this.”  
“And it will be done,” she stated without any room for another breath.  
Pepper looked at her confidant with questioning eyes.  
“Not that I do not trust your skills but we are talking about stalking the most dangerous entity of all, Natasha.”  
A knowing smirk runs over the sinfully red lips that licked to wipe away some of the shivers of thrill they feel over them.  
“What makes you think this is my first rodeo with the Devil?”


	7. The Devil Wears Nada

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I uh...I'm going...with you?"

The silence lingering in your apartment was chilly at best. In between the mess that was strewn around you- both inside and out- and your life in the hands of the Devil himself, it seemed sane to go with him to find Peter.

But to Loki, who watched your arms crossing your chest, your fingers digging into the skin while your eyes looking everywhere but at him, your body wasn't really ready.

He loved taking his sweet time to see the most minute chill you felt wherever his icy gaze landed.

_My oh my!_

He had never seen someone be so delicately sensitive to his gaze. That too in a good way.

You, on the other hand, were trying your best not let your heart give out for there was a chance that you might see those eyes again and be trapped in them forever. Not in a good way.

"Oh, Y/N, pet," his voice came as the wind-chime in a thunderstorm, sweet and ominous simultaneously, "you are not going anywhere with me. I will be bringing the boy back while you sit here and think of how not to disappoint yourself and your new best friend."

"...okay. Sir. Loki. Listen, please. I want to go with you because I have to."

"Don't you trust me?"

Your brows wanted to reach the sky along with the silence that came out with your interrupted lungful of breath.

_Is he really asking me that?_

"Relax, little one. I will deliver that boy to you. He is part of the deal after all."

"Yeah, that's the thing. I know you will deliver him but I have to be there because he is my responsibility. In many ways. So...please, mi-ahem-Loki, let me go with you."

The essence of complete fear stank around you and to Loki's amusement you still wanted to ride with the devil.

"I'm not taking you with me looking like that," he spewed in your direction without so much as breaking his elegance.

You looked at yourself in mild confusion. "But...I just had a bath."

A low groan of disapproval left Loki's throat as whatever ounce of confidence that you had gathered slowly faded away right where it had originated from- in the hollow darkness around you.

"Wait here, I'll comb my hair and...put some perfume on," you muttered.

Your feet tried to find the floor on your way to the room while Loki watched your back, his suspiciously glistening greens never leaving you.

"Minnerva," he called out to the thin air.

"Yes, Sire," her grave voice came from behind his right shoulder.

"Give me Y/N's file."

He hadn't even said the f-word when Minnerva was producing her tablet forward to show him your history while you tried to find something to wear.

"And take some medication while you're at it," he raised his voice just a smidge, the honey-laden grace never leaving his throat, "I don't want you puking your guts out on me."

Loki looked down at the tablet, his expressions a complete blank turning to slight twitch of amusement in his brows before a smirk found its way on his lips.

"Well, I'll be damned," he whispered.

"You already are, sire," Minnerva quipped.

"Right, my pet? This is one quite absurdly unique human who has found me."

"How so?"

"Remember the human form of tides we talked about that we cursed creatures ride on."

"Distinctly."

"She's experiencing one. And looks like I am about to surf right in time for a raging tsunami," he smirked.

The click of the door sounded and Loki's nostrils flared at an aroma he was too familiar with.

"Mmm," he moaned, his eyes closing to let the scent linger inside his head before he had to see the dull humanity again, "Bvlgari."

You scratched an itch on your neck before nodding and giving a muted 'yes'.

"It was a gift," you cleared your throat before picking up your jacket. "Right. So...where are we going?"

Loki watched your jacket, his eyes coming to linger on your face before he sighed and looked around the space, his jaw doing a twist while his hands came to rest in his pant pockets.

"Y/N. Darling," he tried- he really did- to slowly breathe out your name, "we are not going to be scouring your dump of a city. We will be going straight to the boy."

He found the tiny grooves between your confused brows quite amusing- not to mention hilarious.

"I know."

This tiny concrete piece of confidence in your voice pinched him for some reason and one could see him lock his jaw hard right on that exquisite face before releasing it.

"Fine," he concluded, "come closer then, sweet one. Hand me a property of that boy."

Putting on your jacket you took out a piece of folded paper from inside one of your pockets before placing it in those big pale hands, subconsciously getting a touch of that cold skin.

"My my," Loki commented flatly as he unfolded the paper to look at the stick figures Peter had drawn, "putting Van Gogh to shame."

One of them quite closely resembled Elsa from Frozen.

"Could you please concentrate, and let it g-"

Your head registered Loki smiling as he watched you.

"Let it what?"

_He knew!_

"Nevermind."

Before you could say something more, Loki's hands were already on your hips snaking their way to your back from beneath the open jacket. All the heat that had been gathering inside you, you could feel it being siphoned off by him as he pulled you close to him- too close. You could see every little groove on his face, every mole over his neck, even those peeping from beneath the collar of that crisp black shirt. You could even smell him.

And he smelled something like a forest in snow would- cold, still, crisp, dormant, hibernating, an animal resting, a chilly breeze carrying the scent of the frozen lake and pine trees.

He was everything that death was supposed to be.

And yet was alive within with something inhuman underneath.

_Is that what it was like to be the devil?_

"Let's find out," his lips gently whispered close to your ears, brushing against every little hair on over your forehead "shall we?"

.

"Come on. We haven't got all day," Loki announced as he fixed his collar and straightened his cuff.

You, on the other hand, were on your hands and knees, trying to make sense of the blur before toppling over and coming to rest on your back.

The room spun a bit more till it finally came to a standstill.

"I'm fine," you tried to speak through panicked breaths, "I'm fine."

 _He was right_ , you thought to yourself, _I should have taken something for the... travelling sickness._

While you tried to get up, Loki looked at the paper in his hand before putting it in his inner pocket.

"So much for building a snowman," he muttered to himself, looking straight ahead.

The structure around them looked like a mansion or boarding house out of time, with wooden boards and stairs broken, windows shattered or missing, wild grass growing everywhere. The doors were off their hinges while some vulgar graffiti soiled one of the walls.

"Are we-"

"In the right place."

You could only see one side of his face but this half determined, half thrilled look made you feel like he knew something you didn't. And that was one of the reasons your head wasn't the only thing thumping.

"I can smell the blood and torture here," he commented, quite pleased with himself.

The cracked portraits you passed carried a haunting impression that made you walk faster and lot closer to the devil than you wanted to.

"Pop quiz for you, Y/N," Loki chimed out of nowhere taking up a bit of dust from the frames around him, "what does an animal do when they realise they have done something their master won't like."

He breathed in the air and made what your friends would have called his orgy-face- the same thing you did when you smelled a good old book.

You knew you could not question his insanity so you did what you were told.

"Umm, dogs tend to hide in their comfort spots. Usually in a corner where they think they won't be found. Or a spot they think their parents won't find out about."

You heard a low chuckle from the figure walking in front of you.

_Now that does not sound right._

"Winner winner-"

One moment you had been standing right in the hall of the remnants of the huge house while in the next you were walking two floors above into a space that looked like a dining hall minus the luxury of chairs and a banquet.

"-demon dinner," Loki growled as the wall in front of both of you exploded, taking one of you by utter surprise.

A creature in seemingly solid form with slime and scales everywhere on its body and a jaw that opened so wide to scream its existence out that you thought it was off its hinges. Eyes as black as the purest coal bore into Loki while the saliva dripped from its fangs. The incoherent screams felt like they would rip through you any moment.

But Loki stood there unbothered. In fact, he seemed quite satisfied with the unbearable pain that had started surrounding you.

And then it all made sense.

"Loki!" You tried to shout over the screeches of that beast, "stop torturing him!"

"What?" Loki turned to you blankly, and the shrieks died. "I thought you wanted an outing with your new friend."

_For fuck's sake..._

You turned towards the demon who kept uttering something in a language foreign to you. "Where's the boy?"

The demon looked at you for the first time, and within an instant, sprang towards you with its jaws wide open with every intent devour your bones.

And like an unspoken underlying instinct, you jumped and grabbed Loki's arm, hiding behind him.

Loki didn't move. He did not have to.

"Step within ten feet of her and the only thing you would be seeing is the hellfire I created from the souls you tortured."

His entire being stood between you and the demon, his eyes brought the blood-curdling scream to a whimper, his words reduced the beast to a crying lost cub looking for something to hide underneath.

"What are you waiting for? Answer her," he commanded without any effort, forcing the creature to look between the two of you in confusion before it pointed to the unbroken part of the wall it had exploded through, where a pile of old furniture lay.

"Peter?" Your aching larynx called out for the boy as you stepped forward and walked towards the pile, keeping yourself as far away from the demon as possible, never realising the demon was trying to do the same.

You could already see a pale hand in between the pile from three steps away, forcing a curse out of your mouth and sending you into a scare to quickly move everything away before you could finally reach him and grab his limp body out.

"Peter," you tried to speak through the breathlessness you were currently experiencing, "oh God! Peter!"

You checked for his breathing and his pulse.

"He's fine," your declared, teary-eyed, to Loki.

Why you did that, you do not know.

Picking up the unconscious boy, you carefully adjusted his head on your shoulder before hurrying back to Loki's side.

"One rule, Icarus." Loki's voice echoed through the dilapidated walls and hollow foundations.

You had no idea how he was doing it. He wasn't shouting, nor screaming. But the ice in his calm voice asserted the right amount of pressure you didn't want it to be.

"One. Rule."

Your hands wrapped themselves around Peter's waist, securing him in your hold as you took a step back from the one entity in the room radiating overwhelming gelidity.

"No children."

Icarus, the demon, grunted and muttered something under his breath, never once having the balls to look right into Loki's eyes.

"Hmm?" Loki tilted his head a bit, turning his ear less than an inch towards the demon. "What was that? What did you just spew, you worthless pile of mud-goblin?"

Icarus blinked and moved back a little. You could sense that beast had hit a wrong nerve.

Icarus said something, this time loud and clear.

Loki turned to you, his eyes swirling with tiredness.

Now that was something new.

"The audacity of this bitch," he stated before snapping his fingers.

A flat line of noise originating from somewhere far away seemed to get closer with every passing second, making Icarus wriggle in fear where he stood.

It cried in its incoherent language some more.

"Oh, I'll leave the judgement to those hungry bastards, demon," Loki concluded with a smile that never reached his eyes.

Shrieks filled the room and you could feel the pressure on your back increase five folds.

Something really worse had entered the space and it was affecting you apart from making that demon run for a corner to hide in.

With Peter's weight on your shoulders, you felt nauseous, chilling sweats running down everywhere throughout your body while your legs gave away to make you fall into something...soft.

"You might want to close your eyes, sweet one," Loki spoke softly as he brought you back on your legs, the pressure upon you receding for some reason.

You did as you were told. But not before you buried Peter's head in your chest and put one hand around his ear.

Icarus' lungs burst with the the cries that would have woken up the dead before all went silent.

.

"Baymax was really underrated."

You open your eyes and find yourself in a room with posters of Baymax, Inside Out, The Emperor's New Groove, and Lilo & Stitch.

On a study table by the window were figurines of Naruto, Sasuke, and Orochimaru.

You carefully laid Peter down on his bed, making sure he wasn't hurt anywhere.

"This kid could've done better," Loki commented as he tipped Sasuke's figurine and let it fall down with a clatter, grabbing all your heightened- and definitely tired- senses.

"Could you-" you nearly shouted before composing yourself and turning down into a whisper- "please shush it. There are other...humans here."

"Relax, they can't hear us," Loki groaned, tipping Orochimaru this time.

You were tucking Peter under his quilt when you felt a soft cold blow tickle your ear.

"And don't you. Shush me. Ever again."

The whisper right inside your ear coiled up all parts of you as his lips ever so lightly brushed right at the edge of you.

Your hands went by the side of the bed to look for support as you tried to get away from the devil while he smiled at the way he was playing your chords. The music he was producing seemed to please him.

"Y/N," a familiar voice called for you.

You turned to look at a conscious Peter looking at you with every bit of emotion through his eyes.

You turned to look at Loki but he was nowhere to be seen.

"I'm here, Pete," you whispered before laying a hand on his forehead. "Are you okay?"

He nodded.

"That demon-"

"Won't hurt you anymore. I promise you," you assured him, stroking his hair.

"That man with you," Peter gulped, "he saved me. He's an angel, isn't he?"

You pressed your lips- not knowing what to tell him- before planting a kiss on his head.

"You've been through too much. Get some sleep, hon. We'll talk in the morning, okay?"

Peter slumped into his pillow and closed his eyes while you softly patted him to sleep.

.

"Loki?" You whispered through the empty corridor of the house.

There was no sign of him whatsoever. No sounds except for the clock's ticking and the snores coming from the master bedroom.

"Loki?" You called out again.

Nada.

"Oh, Loki!" You moaned in frustration, feeling an icy chill go right through your spine.

Oh _n-_

"Keep calling my name like that, kitten, and we'll be best friends with some really worthy benefits."

"Wh-"

You wanted to be disgusted by it but you were already being sucked through space back to your apartment and only had enough energy to keep yourself from throwing up as you landed back right where you'd vanished from.

.

"They were sleeping."

Loki sighed as twisted two fingers and the shot glass filled with the Jäger you two had left behind.

"That's what humans usually do, Y/N." He sat down on the sofa in your living room and downed the shot.

"No, Loki," you sat down next to him, "they were sleeping when their son was missing!"

Lokis swallowed another shot and raised a finger.

"Adopted son."

"What?"

"Didn't you know?"

"...no."

"He has a blood relative. An aunt that lives in New York."

"...oh."

You wanted to ask him how he knew that but thought it was better to keep your mouth shut and not land yourself into something you could have easily avoided.

Plopping down into the sofa you relaxed a bit, feeling some part of you feel a little light.

"For second today, I thought his father...his adoptive father would explode at me by the way he..."

Your hand moved on its own to caress the throbbing part of your arm where he'd held you so carelessly.

Loki glanced at your arm before trying to sit back in his chair, moving around a bit, trying to find the source of his discomfort before his hands found it and took out a plushie of a cat.

He looked at the stuffed toy with pure judgement before placing it on the sofa's arm on his side and placed the bottle of liquor between the toy's limbs.

Loki took your empty shot glass and the two seconds it took for it to come to you, it was filled with Jäger.

"Relax your nerves, kitten."

The smooth herby liquid went right down your throat and the swirl came a bit later when you were already three shots down. The beauty of Jäger.

"Why did Icarus betray you?"

Loki breathed in and opened his mouth to speak.

"Oh, Icarus! Now I remember where I've heard this name. Icarus and the sun! Huh!"

Loki's brow judged you with everything it had while his lips basked in your drunken state.

"He didn't seem like the type who'd go and betray you, though. I mean he looked like a two-year-old on a sugar rush, really. Like a child angry at his parent for not getting him something he saw at the store."

"Yeah, I told him not to hunt children once before too-" Loki turned towards you and rested his head on his curled hand over the sofa headrest, looking at you, "-but that was thousands of years ago."

"Then someone else must have shown him the store."

You gulped down another shot.

"Minnerva's really cute, though," you spoke to yourself. At least that's what you thought.

"Something tells me you get quite interesting once you get drunk."

The sixth shot was swirling around in your mouth when your head turned to look at Loki and your index finger went up in a 'first-of-all'.

"I'm drinking to forget all the things you've'n saying and doing to me all night. I'm also drinking to forget the things you would be saying or doing to me later tonight. Capice? And, we still have work to do."

The glow that had come over Loki's face disappeared.

"No wonder you haven't had sex in a long while."

You gasped.

"Excuse me!" You sat up straight, turning towards him, forgetting who it was you were squaring up against, "Just because I am drunk does not mean I will hook up with anyone! Especially you!"

It was Loki's turn to be offended.

"First of all," he began, "donot for a single moment forget you are talking to the devil, you minx. I am unbelievable in bed. I can make you feel all nerves of the entire universe and its galactic charm in fifteen minutes and it will be so apocalyptic that every neuron in your body will remember that sensation; so will the elemental foundations of your soul even when you ascend into a higher dimension."

You gulped, blinked and put your leg above the other.

"And second of all, even when you should loosen up and drink, you do not stop being a professional. Even the devil has some standards, human! I look forward to foreplay and pleasure, not some sloppy drunken sex that feels like work."

You did not know what to say.

_I cannot believe the devil is better than so many men I've met._

"I'm sorry," you muttered, feeling weird yet not that uncomfortable apologising to the devil.

The shot glass went back on the table.

"Business first then," he clasped his hands together. "Let's suck that life-threatening force from inside you."

You looked at him, appalled for a second.

"I-uh...I didn't....how did you know?"

Your gut was still not used to the smirk on his lips.

"I'm the devil, darling. If I cannot smell the ever so pungent darkness that dims the everbright soul then who am I, really?"

Your throat let out a hum while your head nodded.

"How long?" He asked.

"It's been three months," you responded while playing with your shot glass.

"And," you continued, the raised momentum in your voice catching Loki off guard, "I've already sold my soul to you so why not just live the last five days of my life with less pain and whatever it is that is killing me from the inside."

Loki eyed you, studying the emotions hidden in plain sight in your eyes.

"You do realise I will be inside you if you want me to untether whatever it is that is sucking the life out of you?"

You played the words that just came out of his mouth in your head and narrowed your eyes at him.

"Puns fully intended," he teased.

"Please. Don't," you pleaded. "Just do whatever you have to do to get this heaviness off me. And while you're insid-possessing me, please don't do anything I wouldn't do. I beg you."

"Oh! How lovely. That leaves me with so many choices." The sarcasm dripped in this one.

Putting your leg up on the sofa you straightened your back as much as you could.

"Okay, let's get on with it, then."

Loki chuckled.

"For someone who has studied about me, you sure seem to forget that I cannot just enter you, pet. I need you to give me your consent."

He moved the unruly strands of your hair away from your face, making your feel some shivers you had not felt in a very long time.

"You need to say yes."

"Yes?"

"And you need to seal your consent."

All you could do was blink at those smaragdines that were staring right into your soul, as cold fingers pulled up your chin.

"What do you want to say?" He asked gently.

"Yes," you exhaled with a relieving ache.

His thumb rubbed that edge of your jaw, his eyes taking off your soul's layers.

"Go ahead then," his command sounded more like the minstrel's song in the spring.

And you did go ahead, letting your lips meet his, feeling those cold supple ones with your heated throbs.

Your eyes closed as you felt yourself drawn into his icy touch, letting your lips chase his more; the urge to taste him growing with every second before you felt complete darkness and your bodies went limp over the sofa, seeming like they were in deep slumber.

.

The radio in your kitchen tuned on and started playing Ann Margaret's What Am I Supposed To Do; the music relatively slow and eerie to the taste of the apartment with no one but the inanimate objects and two lifeless bodies to hear it.

A few moments later the window in the living room opened, giving way to a strong gust of wind that knocked the dead bamboo plant from over the fridge, and as it went down, a magnet on the fridge door stuck to its side.

The glass bowl that the bamboo had rested in for so long shattered and the muddy, worm-infested water spilt over the kitchen floor.

The magnet, that was an angel, lay there between the water and broken glass.

Just as Ann sang her last verse, an echo reverberated through the air before sending a cosmic pulse from the centre of the radio as one powerful ripple throughout the apartment.

The song finished, the radio died and the cold silence came back again.


	8. Abundance

It was a journey. Through a tunnel, maybe? Or something deeper in the ground. Well, that's what it felt like. Like when you travelled in a train and passed a junction, or where the tracks met, maybe even a tunnel there! That was how you were feeling. Or rather, your conscience was feeling? Or should we call it your soul?

Let's just skip to the part where you felt it all and woke up.

...

WAKE UP!

A loud gasp rose from your lungs as your eyes threw themselves wide open.

"There you are," you heard the dark honey voice of the devil himself from somewhere around- hopefully he isn't still inside you, "I was worried about you."

By the layers in Loki's voice, you could clearly tell how he was mocking you but your brain was on too much of a spin to even consider registering that idea right now.

"Ughh," you responded, trying to get up from the sofa. "What happeuuh-" you barely stood straight before feeling yourself falling down again if not for Loki breaking your fall, catching you in his slender but surprisingly strong arms.

"Woah! Now, now. We haven't even had proper drinks yet."

You took the support of his arms- which were eerily stone-like under all that expensive fabric that he was wearing- and scrunched your nose as you stood up, this time slowly. "We had freaking Jagër didn't we?"

"And that's got you so blurry already," he announced, sitting down, and took you by your shoulder with him, causing you to look at him with a bit of a diluted and confused rage, "we really need to work on your drinking capacity."

You don't know who you shared a look with- God, an angel or any entity that was invisible right now- but you were certain of the age-old fact that the devil was not a good influence on you.

"That's the only way I get that thing out of your system."

Now hold on. What was that?

"What? What thing?"

Hmm...maybe not as bad an influence?

"That thing inside you make you all-" he flayed his hands like an English noble while scrunching his nose just a bit- "so depressing and boring."

Your neck hurt having to turn to look at him but your ego was taking none of it. "Excuse me?"

But did he show any empathy for you? Unless that devilish smirk- that was meant kill thousands of weak-hearted earthly creatures when gazed upon- was his way of showing you how he felt for you, he clearly wasn't anywhere close to 'e'.

Oh, what am I even expecting! And from whom?!

Loki turned to you and relaxed into the sofa, his back being supported by the arms of your comfortable furniture.

"So, humans don't count being saved by the devil from a demon empathy?"

The broken harp inside you made the worst possible sound any instrument could.

"Please stop doing that," you begged, turning away from his face, heat radiating from your cheeks from the embarrassment.

"Why?"

"Those are my private thoughts," you tried to stress but your voice broke.

Loki got up and leaned a little closer to you, making you shift a bit to the other side- never stopping him from leaning closer. "Oh but I like hearing how irresistible you find my form," he nearly moans into your ear.

Holy Buddha! Lord of mercy!

"Aw," he pretended to groan- quite seductively though- in your ears, "don't take his name," whispering while moving your stray strands of hair away from your face, "he always kills my party mood by giving me his eerie smile and asking me how I'm doing. Like he cares."

He nearly spat out the last sentence and you sat there with raised brows, wondering what choice had you made that brought you straight in the arms of the devil while he narrated his dislike for Buddha.

"It was a Wednesday and you had your exams that week," Loki began, still playing with your hair.

"No, stop!" You shifted to the other end of the couch, raising your leg over the sofa to block his body, "stop telling me what I chose wrong. Stop telling me how excessively great Buddha is and definitely stop reading my thoughts."

The rims of Loki's eyes light up in a fiery-green glow, looking at you with a tilted curiousness. "Are you ordering me, darling?"

Great. Now he brings his powers in play.

"I am requesting you," you stress, folding your hands in front of him, "this is really uncomfortable and my head hurts and...wait." The tone of your voice changed, so did that pleasing colour in your eyes that Loki was loving till you dropped it wear a hint of confused blue before turning into a suspicious grey. "What exactly did you do inside me?"

"Woah," Loki raised his brow, "I didn't know you were into those kind of...kinks."

You looked like a sad confused potato till it dawned on you how of context the devil was taking your words.

"Seriously? I am dying here from this unending pain and all you can think of is sex jokes," you nearly shout with whatever energy you have left inside you.

Loki flicked his finger and within seconds there were vines coming out of the floor, wrapping around your limbs like snakes ready to devour you whole. "Stop," you said with a hint of rage but the vines only grew tighter, beginning to dig into your skin. "Loki, please," you begged this time, watching them force your hands behind your back.

"Loki," you cried softly with just the right amount of fear burning in your eyes. Exactly what Loki wanted.

And so, he finally shifted, fixing his arms around you as his hovering figure came to a stop above you, blazing eyes looking at you with the intensity of burning everything between your skin and his.

"Do not forget, pet," he cooed, too close to you, "that I am the one who holds the chains to your life. And if I want, I can yank them as hard as I please because in the end, your cries will only deliver me pleasure."

You should have been afraid. You should have been shivering in fear and panic; your heart should have been pounding for watching death right in the eyes. But this scorching sensation that you felt inside you did not seem fear like. The shiver was definitely not because of panic or your nerves feeling this unhinged tide. And all you could do was look at him while blinking with visible stupidity, gulping down something to moisten your dry throat while Loki's eyes seemed to shift.

"See?" He nearly sang, "Now that's the colour I love to see." He inhaled your essence in, moaning as he felt it register inside him, making you question his senses- and for this one very discreet almost 'invisible in the darkness of the moonless night' reason, made you question yours. "Smells like the right amount of fear," he chuckled, "with a hint of something I can't really put my finger on."

Her kink of being tied up and aroused by you! Your insides shouted.

Shut up! Shut up!

"Hm," Loki looked at you with fresh eagerness, nearly killing you with the intensity of embarrassment about to explode inside your head, "I have to say you seem interesting to play with without your thoughts too. So, I'll keep this thing off till as long as I like."

He finally got up and away. You were relieved.

Danggit, your inner voice didn't seem, though, I thought he'll finally kiss you without context!

Awesome, you hit back at her, just the person I want you to be rooting for!

You know if she had a physical form, she would be rolling her eyes at you now because both of you knew you had felt something glow inside your chest- and heat up inside your legs- at the mention of being at his mercy.

Shaking your head, you tried to bring yourself to reality.

No, I am better than this. I have to be.

"So," Loki chugged a glass of your Jager, "what do you want to do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm not going to wait for you to decide on getting drunk and all that because I know the moment you hit the limit you will be crying your eyes out and I am not in the mood to ruin my suit for pent up tears tonight," he declared, letting his hands show you the piece of work layering his body, "more critical tears of underpaid labourers and cattle have gone into the making of this."

You shared that look again, with no one, in particular, being done with the devil for the night and yet knowing that there were still so many more hours to go.

"Fine," you got up, realising the vines had long since vanished, leaving barely any scars on your wrists and ankles, "we can go somewhere then? Uhh...someplace you'd like to visit? There's a pizza place here that's open at this time of the night."

You went on and on while Loki's concern for you modified into a chuckle transforming into laughter. "Oh, you poor human. You are about to die in five days and you are still worried about the things I want to see? Honestly, woman, who died and made you the queen of ethics? Wait, is there a course for such things now?"

He wasn't wrong. Because he admitted it right now, it all started to seem more real. You were going to die in five days. He was going to take your soul to hell and God knows do what all with it. Peter's disappearance and your state then had created such a perfect picture for it to make sense but now...

"Are you having second thoughts, darling?"

His words broke you out of this nauseating spell that you cast upon yourself and you found yourself standing in the kitchenette with your shot glass in your hand looking down at the floor where broken glass lay in a puddle of water along with one of your ceramic angels. You picked up the ceramic figurine to look at, a familiar old ache replacing whatever little glow had risen inside your chest.

The angel seemed to be looking at you, begging you not to do this.  


"Yes," you finally declared, throwing the figurine in the bin, "I'm sure."

.

The angel on the watch sat by the lake on the lone bench, going through his device, looking at various statistics while someone hummed in the back somewhere, going about its own business.

"And another one and another one and another bites the dust..."

The humming was not as serene for the angel at work as he wanted it to be, but he was trying to get through it somehow. It was a really special person after all. One couldn't just tell him to stop humming.

"Would you stop humming," the angel announced, "I am trying to work here, Peter!"

Everything went silent, letting the angle heave a sigh of relief and go back to his tablet.

The tree behind him rustled before Peter popped out of it upside down. "Whatcha dooooooin', Happy?"

"Tryna' work."

"Can I help?"

"You've helped us already."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. No go cuddle spiders...or something."

"Well, technically our friend did. You know, that woman who goes by the name-"

"Peter I just want a few moments of silence to track down what exactly does Tony want from that stupid-"

"Bad word."

"Excuse me?"

"You said stupid, put some of your essences in the swear jar."

"Yeah, right. That's not gonna happen. Now please just shut u-"

"Oh shoot! Happy-"

"Aha! Now you take out your essence young man and put them in the swear-"

"No, Happy, look!"

The angel followed Peter's gaze to the lake as he watched a figure soaking in it coming out with scars and wounds being healed by the water. The figure- a man, apparently- was heaving for breaths, his glass eyes searching for someone, anyone.

"Hello!" he shouted, the tiredness in his voice abruptly changing his pitch. "Is there anybody there?!"

"Should we let him in?" Peter asked in a whisper.

"Hello! Mr Stark?" he shouted again, catching Happy and Peter's hundred per cent attention, "it's me, Scott. Can you please let me in? There is some very very important news I have to share with you."

Happy turned to his device to open the gate of mirage.

The man, still tired as he was, lit up on seeing Peter and Happy standing in front of him.

"Oh! Thank God!" he almost cried, putting all his energy in his legs to walk towards, "thank you! Thank you so much! I need to s-speak to Tony Stark."

"Identification please," Happy announced, earning a confused stare from Peter.

"Happy, he can barely walk."

"I don't care. Whoever has to meet Tony has to go through me."

"But Happy!"

"It's okay," the man smiled at Peter, still breathing heavily, "it's okay."

"My name is Scott. Scott Lang. I'm Y/N's guardian angel," he declared before falling on the ground and losing all consciousness.


	9. Euphoria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the undeclared hiatus. I was completely taken over by my health and took some time to recover from it. Good thing I'm a liiiitle bit stubborn when it comes to the stories in my head. :P

The non-periodic clatter of cutlery was nowhere near to bringing peace to your otherwise burning heart but the seemingly soulful R&B piece that was faint yet somehow reverberating through this dark place was one tiny corner of solace in the back of your mind.

The darkness...this darkness was supposed to be whole; to help you heighten your senses to the things going on in your immediate surroundings. But you wanted to be a bit farther from them.

“You are quite distant.”

The ice-laden voice rubbing all over your ears made you shudder where you sat.  _ Holy mother of _ -

“Hm?” You tried to break out of the imagery of those thin corrupt lips running a tangent on the outside of your ears, hoping the Devil still could not read your thoughts.

“I said you are quite distant,” Loki repeated in the dark, forcing you to draw a gulp, “this table is too big. We can barely have a conversation.”

_...right. That’s our biggest problem. _

“Doesn’t matter,” you mumbled, your hand carefully moving over the table to look for the glass of your cocktail before tackling it out of nowhere- thankfully not spilling it over, “it’s dark and we can barely see anything.”

Taking a sip of limoncello, you heard Loki give out a disgruntled moan.

“Why are we here again?”

Sigh.

_ So I don’t have to see your face till I decide what to do with you. Or me. _

“I don’t know,” you shrugged and rolled your eyes, “this place is said to have the best food and-” you raised your brows at yourself for saying-“ambience.”

“And yet you haven’t eaten anything,” came the quick reply, pausing your fingers wrapped around the glass holding your drink to take the glass further towards your lips.

“I’m not hungry,” you inhaled the words, realising a little late something about Loki’s astute observation. “Wait,” you nearly sat up in your seat, looking straight into the void, hoping you were looking right at him, “you can…see?” The last word was less of a statement but more of a concern filled conclusion to self.

There was a sudden alteration in your senses- a tectonic shift in your being for you felt your head swirl a bit in the space devoid of any light, your dominant hand leaving the drink while the other going over to claw into the edge of the seat you were now apparently dissolving into. It was an uncalled buzz, a feeling of your body free of the shackles of gravity, moving where the wave wanted to take it, and your mind just going with it, seeing a streak of green moving with your eyes like the moon following you wherever you went. The pain running inside your body too was confused by this deviation, trying to find a ground for breeding, only to cocoon itself into a ball in the very centre till it could find something to attach itself to.

And just as you felt your head hit something soft and comfortable in the floating abyss, the green streak stopped short to transform into a pair of eyes in front of you a few feet away.

“I can see, love,” the eyes seemed to purr directly at you as they drew closer, bringing with them a questionably pleasant chill. “I can see,  _ everything _ .”

The eyes rose up, making you go further into whatever it is you were already lying in. Something soft and cold with an ounce of pure sinistral intentions moved up your bare leg, reverberating your insides with that snake-like movement, making the hairs rise and glow at the roots like the flora and fauna of the night on the beach; or simply put- something straight out of a galactic fantasy.

“I can hear,” the whisper was near as were the eyes that were stripping away layers after layers of your being to stare right into your soul, almost in contact with the last sheet covering the bare minimum. “I can smell,” the whisper resonated as you closed your eyes, your lips parting on hearing that siren voice right next to your eyes before there was a tingle right near the collar, an intake of breath- intake of your ardour. You were exposed even without being naked.

“Loki,” you heard your breath beg before anything could make sense in the mush that was your brain.

Your eyes opened to the same green eyes, but this time, small elliptical pupils lit up in the same hue next to those eyes. One, two, three, four...you lost count till they were popping out everywhere, unwillingly lighting you up your existence where you stood in this endless void.

“I can sense everything.”

Silence.

_ Wait… _

_ I...I...know this? _

In that incoherent silence broken only by the light through those pupils surrounding those dominating pair of pupils, you felt a tinge of familiarity. You had seen something like this before. The same eyes. Similar demeanour. Just a different hue and a lot of different intentions.

Nearly everything was the same except the ones you’d seen before had been purple instead of green.

You moved closer to them, to the pair that controlled them all, bringing your arm forward like a reflex that had been forgotten and had just been taken out from some dusty corner of your brain. Your hand went over to touch the green in that biggest pupil, that was bigger than your physical being right now, feeling a swirling force engulf before everything went dark.

.

Oh, it was such a tease to play with you for Loki. His smallest quip would raise your tiniest of nerves, giving Loki a different kind of high.

Y/N.

He was inhaling your name like the devil’s personal brand of ecstasy. Well, why wouldn’t he? This human was turning out to be quite the drug.

_ She’s putty in my hands _ , Loki thought, as he saw you grab your chair when he took your consciousness out to play, your body feeling the euphoria through and through. His high hit another level when he saw your aura being ripped off that muddy layer just as he touched you, visibly lighting up your nerves for him to devour your illuminated beauty through his eyes.

_ Loki. _

His name echoed through your consciousness like a roar of thunder and Loki really had to grasp himself to feel the metaphorical ground after that one exhilarating elation of victory. You were clay in his presence.

And all that was left, was one last shot of fear that he could drink off you before going back to pretending to be your  _ friend  _ for a while. So, he did the tried and tested.

He opened his eyes. All of them. Opening his vision to the dimensions, a mere effort on his part for the lifetime of thrill he was about to get from the screams and torture your soul was going to feel right now.

At least that was what he thought would happen till he saw you look at him- all of him- with unadulterated curiosity before stepping forward to touch him- to be precise, his eyes- making him jolt both of you back into your reality, breaking away every other vine of the devil’s enchantment he had on you, finding both himself and you back at that restaurant.

_ What in the-  _

He took in one long inhale to let his human form come to terms with what just happened. He could see you clutching your forehead while taking the support of the table, trying to bring your still swirling brain back to the three dimensions.

No one in his known existence had ever dared to even walk towards the flaming eyes of the devil, let alone try to touch them.

And you? You had managed to do both.

You had taken the Devil by surprise tonight.

A snap led to the entire hall to be flooded with light- specifically the soft LEDs that graced the walls, hence illuminating the space like on giant cuboid- everyone gasping while the waiters went around shielding their eyes as the night vision aids in front of their eyes suddenly glared up.

You looked around, finding comfort in the light, feeling your feet on the ground- though it was just the tip of your toes that were touching the floor through the sneakers- before your eyes rested on Loki, who had a very strange look in his eyes; the eyes that were dead set on you.

You blinked and looked away before coming back to those green pupils that were still stuck on you.

You looked down at the table, your fingers moving the one ring in your dominant hand round and round in the loop of anxiety before you finally let impulse take over.

“You...um...didn’t touch your food either,” you mentioned, your gaze taking in the platter of lobster served as if it was being presented to royalty.

You could see those green pupils narrow just the littlest before the napkin on his lap was dropped on the table and he got up to straighten his jacket. “We’re done here,” he announced before walking out, leaving you to not-so-meticulously drag out your chair, wobble up on your legs, pick your napkin from the ground and rush out to catch him.

She’s putty in my hands, his own words now mocked him as he tried to make sense of his reality.

You, clearly, were no ordinary human. 

At least not tonight.


End file.
